The metro bus wheezes
to a stop.
Halting dozens
of muffled conversations
while the sirens peal
and whir like
an indepence day novelty
and the school children
bark and howl, wild dogs on the plains of recess.
Struggling against
the urban ferocity,
striking hammer to anvil,
I close my eyes
and seek peace
behind their lids.
2 comments:
I thought about this on my way to school. Posted a little late. Ideally I wanted it to be a single sentence, but it didn't flow quite right.
There's a very distinct level of volume in the language used in this poem: from stifled, to booming, to mute. This shift is so vivid because of the unique precision of your words, which is something I've always admired in your poetry: "wild dogs on the plains of recess." Golden.
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